Facade
by wolf guardian of light
Summary: Persona and Furthia High Webcomic . When mankind ate the fruit of knowledge, his fate was sealed... Though they have been able to delay it. But now, with the Truth being used against the furred decendents of humanity, could their salvation lay with Kale?
1. Awakening

**Brand New Days**

_An unusual crossover of Persona with a webcomic; Furthia High. First of all, all characters, minus the ones I created to tell the story, belong to that great comic-maker we adore, QuetzaDrake. The Persona idea belongs to Atlus I'd imagine. Any other items such as movies and music will be noted at the end of every "Chapter", so please, no lawyers on my tail, okay? Hope you enjoy it!_

_P.S._

_I am Scottish, so any American readers might get confused... It should be easy to understand in context though._

_---- _

Darkness shrouded everything in its all consuming grip, a faint pressure on the chest that you _know_ doesn't exist, but in your heart you can feel it chocking the air out of your lungs. It forces your eyes wide, seeking for that elusive scrap of light, until in the end you feel like the darkness is the one peering into you... Like its searching for the slightest of taints within your soul, picking out every flaw until it overwhelms your spirit...

Unless, of course, you live there.

The truck grumbled and groaned over the rough road, broken and shattered with weeds and small trees growing wild over the unused track. Within, a shadowy figure hung suspended from the roof, a soft, velvety, leathery sound echoing within the solid steel as it writhed. Taped up boxes slid from side to side as the driver navigated the ruined stretch of asphalt, each just missing the leathery cocoon, growling to itself as it swung to avoid them. A dull clicking accompanied its movements as unseen talons moved it over the roof struts, grunting as the sudden stop made it collide with the steel wall with a dull thump. Voices from outside made its ears prick up in attention, certain words causing him to flail in panic, dropping from the ceiling as it rummaged urgently for the two disks that would protect him... Said disks now tumbling across the floor, slipping between two boxes as the heavy steel plated door began to rise.

----

The bull grunted as he shifted himself off the driver's seat, landing on the ground and rubbing his hands on a well used rag, spitting at the dust covered wheel. Following closely behind, a four-by-four slowed to a halt, the driver leaping out quickly as the truck driver gripped the handle for the door.

"Wait! Don't open that door!"

The bull turned back to the door, rolling his eyes. Every time he was employed for these types of jobs, they always had something to demand of him. Be careful with that, don't touch this, never look in _that_ crate... Everyone with something to hide. Gripping the handle, he thrust it up, using a small pulley to open the door higher, grabbing a torch from his belt and shining it deep within the dark recess...

Just as something black shrieked, colliding with several crates before lunging out of the truck, landing on top of the bull's shoulder, claws hooking into his light blue boiler suit before it vaulted itself towards the nearest pool of shadows, grabbing the trunk of the tree whose leaves promised the shade the creature craved. Limbs flailed, claws scraping the bark as it screamed, the evening's sunset light forcing its eyes shut.

From the car, two others climbed out, the smaller one climbing into the truck, crawling over the floor, searching, the other reaching out for the black furred creature, speaking in soft, comforting tones. The first to have left the car knelt down next to the bull, still on his back in shock, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I _told_ you not to open it..." Helping up the mover, he peered into the darkness of the van, calling out to his younger son, Mark. A faint cry of success echoed out of the metal tomb and the scurrying of rat paws made him nod in recognition of a job well done. After all, it wasn't the first time they have had to do something similar to this. Just one of the little oddities all parents have to adapt to. The older rat held out his hand and his son crawled back out from the mover's van, slapping something into the outstretched palm. Ruffling his son's head fur, he began to make soothing noises in the back of his throat, crossing over and kneeling down besides the flailing beast, raising his voice gently.

"It's alright... Here we go, reach out for me, I've got them right here..."

A pair of talon-like paws grasped the air before clutching to the rat's arm as a drowning man would cling to a life belt. Slowly it pulled back, holding the slivers of smoked glass in its paws gently, rising them to its face... The mother rat, called Stacy, lifted up the creature's head that, only after it had calmed down, was recognisable as a bat, his leathery wings furled against his arms. Glancing through the smoked glasses with concern, she held up a few fingers.

"Adam? Tell me dear, how man-"  
"I... I can't see... It's blurry..." At once all three rats huddled around him, the father John pulling a pen-light from his jacket pocket. Clicking his tongue, he felt slightly guilty about what needed to be done, but it was the only way he'd be able to see if any permanent damage had ruined his eyesight for good. Hanging back from the group, Mark walked up to the bull who was observing the scene with wide, unbelieving eyes and kicked him in the shins. Chiding him softly as the bull grabbed his lower leg and shouted at Mark, John turned his expression back to the bat he and his wife had adopted years ago.

"Adam? Listen to me; I need you to look at this light okay?" He ignored the wince as he shone the light directly into Adam's eyes, his larger and far more photo-sensitive eyes flicking from side to side in agitation. He had been exposed to direct sunlight before, but he had always been able to see again shortly afterwards... He could only hope that that was one of those times. Clicking off his pen-light, John held up a different figure from his wife, asking him the same question. Blinking furiously, hoping to peer past the foggy haze that rose up over his vision, Adam forced himself not to squint, taking a few deep breaths...

"... Four?"

John let out a deep sigh of relief, slipping his mini-torch back into his pocket and helping him to his feet. Clapping him on the shoulder, he muttered a quick "you'll be fine" before turning to the Bull with a scowl on his face, slipping into his standard doctor voice that promised that there was going to be not a _hint_ of not being obeyed. It slipped into the bovine's ears and forced him to stand to attention without even consulting the brain beforehand, giving him a wild eyed look of surprise mixed with near knee knocking terror of childhood threats with a needle.

"If my son had suffered any damage to his eyes, I would of _course_ be suing your company... As it is, I think we've had enough of your services... I will see that the van is returned in the morning..."

Gulping softly, the bull stared at the now mildly staggering form of Adam, stepping back in sheer reflex, hand outstretched and pointing.

"Hey, that's a Vamp-"

Mark kicked him in the shins again, glaring up at him before climbing into the van, pushing some of the lighter boxes to the front. Pushing a tightly rolled bundle of notes into his hand, Stacy gave the bull a stern look that all mothers knew how to use to deadly effect before grabbing a box, fiddling with the new house keys in the other hand.

Adam winced under the cover of the tree as his eyes began to sting, like they always did when they were hit with an unexpected source of such bright light. Being a nocturnal creature by birth, his eyes were naturally developed to pick up the slightest hint of light to make hunting easier. At least, back in the days of Humans, that was the reason for making the new nocturnal Furs' eyes so light sensitive. By the time they had realised their mistake, it was too late. These days, most people who could see in the dark had to wear sunglasses, even indoors, just to avoid being blinded. Closing his eyes tight, he lifted off his glasses and rubbed his stinging orbs, the pain slowly receding. Replacing the protective glasses, he blinked a few times as the world around him swam back into focus, sighing lightly in relief. Cricking his neck, he stepped forward, lightly pushing Mark out of the road as he struggled to lift a box that was far too heavy for the ten year old.

"Step aside Shrimp... I'll get this one... The box with the snacks is at the back somewhere..."

Letting the "Shrimp" comment slide for now, the younger rat grinned, climbing back into the darker area of the van, sniffing the air for the illusive box of cookies, chocolate and other culinary delights designed to ruin the appetite for dinner. Stacy clucked her tongue as Adam shrugged sheepishly, his arms full with a box full of plates and cutlery.

"If he can't eat his dinner, your flight privileges will be cut for a week..."

Letting out a heartfelt moan, Adam placed the box in their new kitchen, rushing back to the van to drag the box away from his brother, mumbling about cruel and unusual punishment as he squeezed back past her.

----

Cyrus and max stood outside the ward, staring in at the sleeping form of Kale. He was still hooked up to several monitoring machines, but at least the need for a direct oxygen feed was gone. He was still deathly pale, as though he had just fought a war for his soul rather than suffering a mild collision with a car. And that, Cyrus thought, was more or less the truth. Gods knew what would have happened had he lost. Sighing, he turned around and began to pace down the corridor, his every movement watched by his long time friend. Softly, like a ghost's whisper inside the dark hours of the hospital, Maxwell called out.

"Maybe it hasn't been awoken..."

The Mountain Lion stopped in his tracks, staring back at the fox who was now loosening his tie after a long day's work. Personally, he always found the work they did to have been... Distasteful in the least. And after what happened to Bruce's Mother... Shaking his head to banish unwanted memories, he pulled out his packet of cigarettes. A night like this really deserved more than one. Rubbing his face, the feline walked back to the observation window, staring in at the boy he had taken in and rose like his own flesh and blood. Eyes closing slowly and resting his forehead on the cool toughened glass, he thumped his fist

against the wall once, tilting his head and opening one eye just a crack; just enough to stare at Max with.

"You saw the results, same as me. It's awake." Taking one puff from the nicotine death stick in his fingers, the fox ground it in the bin next to him, wafting his hand to clear the smoke. He really should cut down anyway. The pair stood in silence, each in their own fantasy at what they thought the future would be, both shivering slightly in a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature in the warmish wards. Eventually Max spoke up, voice steady despite the knot in his stomach.

"Do you ever think... We made the wrong decision? Ever think about what else could have happened?" The feline stayed silent for a few minutes before pushing himself off the wall, heading for the exit. Voice as soft as the whisper of velvet on silk, he pushed the door open.

"All the time."

----

Deep in the bowels of the city, a building that had lain dormant and condemned for decades, yet duly paid up for every month at a rather expensive rent, let out the first noise in its interior in over 15 years. The faint tinkle of ancient window panes smashing, a chilling, slithering noise, and a dull thump marked the progress of an unidentifiable mass cloaked all in black. At first, the building looked like an old electronics factory, much like many of the decrepit buildings in the area after the electronic boom and bust several decades ago. It was probably one of the few buildings to survive that was built in the human era. Several conveyor belts lay caked in dust, some still with parts laid out on assembly lines, the robot arms above them still and silent, yet still containing that sense of mobility that remarked upon their efficiency... During their time. The floor, stained by years by soldering material, oils, paints and other manufacturing ingredients, creaked for the first time in ten long years, a shadow passing by the light cast on the ground by a street lamp outside.

The figure strode past the still valuable materials and robotics, passing by several coats that had name tags that could only be faintly seen on the faded material, until it came to a large service lift, several warnings about safety in the workplace emblazoned on the sheet metal doors. A thin, almost skeletal hand reached out, pushing the down button, waiting for the machine to wake from its slumber and carry out the job it was meant to do. Despite its age and the years of neglect, the motor began to haul up cable, dragging the counterweight up and letting the lift fall to ground level, opening up with barely a squeak on its well oiled hinges. Striding inside, the figure hit the down button again, tapping a rhythm on a veiled thigh before reaching out, hitting the "Stop" button. Immediately the lift shuddered to a halt, the light flickering wanly. The same thin, bony hand felt around the door of the lift before emitting a self satisfied chuckle. Fingers catching on a switch, the intruder pulled it, watching as the button panel flipped open on its side, revealing a keypad. Fingers tapping a staccato, the figure clicked its fingers in triumph as the doors slid aside to reveal a heavy duty blast door. Electricity crackled over the lock before a faint pneumatic hiss filled the air as hydraulics slid the blast door to the side. Stepping inside the hidden, subterranean room, the figure paused before a large glass container. With a low growl, it swept past, kicking the side of the glass once, before hobbling gently over to a ladder set into the floor, cursing.

Travelling down the small chute, a thrill ran up the stranger's spine which was sharply clamped down on. Now was not the time to indulge in petty celebrations. Once it was out with its prize, then naturally, a celebration had to be in order. So many years searching, so many years of dreaming of this moment... It was easy to wait a few more minutes. Easy. Touching down on the base, the shrouded figure stared at another blast door, this one far more study than the one guarding the entrance to this... Lab. Striding over to the control panel on the side, another code was typed in with baited breath. As the dull red lamp overhead switched to green, it was let out in an exultant sigh of those who know that they've already won the greatest battle they will ever face...

As the door swung to the side, multicoloured lights shone out over the figure, cutting through the thin black veil to reveal a reptilian woman's face; a face grinning in sheer, mad victory...

"At last... The power... The sheer, uncontrollable _power_..."

----

Maxwell sighed as Cyrus drove his wife and son home, maintaining the lie that everything was going to be alright. For the past couple of years now, he had wondered whether or not the old feline had told at least his wife the circumstances in which young Kale had come to live with them, but apparently not. To be honest with himself, he thought that was for the better. Some things mere mortals are better off not knowing.

He glanced down at the cigarette pack in his paw, reading the label but not truly seeing it, lost in his own thoughts. Kale... And this new Persona within him, a remnant of what he once was. How was that possible? They had checked, and re-checked and checked once more, making sure they removed all traces of that... Personality from his mind, body and, more importantly, soul. Rubbing his eyes with the other paw, he tried to think it over. Perhaps, it had split itself, like an Amoeba? No... No, he doubted that. For one thing, he, no, _it_ was already a fragmented soul. Surely there was a limit to how much you could divide a single being's soul... Surely...

His eyes finally focused on the carcinogenic warning on the packet in his hand, giving a mirthless chuckle. If things were as bad as Cyrus thought they were, then Cigarettes were the least of his worries. If someone... Someone like Kale's other half... Was able to find and unleash the power he and the Organization had worked so hard to keep contained, then pretty much all was lost. He shivered and not because of the chill night air. He was one of the few to have seen firsthand that kind of power, and survive. The thought of it running amuck was terrifying to say the least.

As they always did whenever he thought of _that_ power, painful memories were dredged up from the recesses of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to keep them at bay. Closing his eyes, he could swear he could smell the acrid, electrical smoke; the results of vast and expensive computing machines catching fire. In the depths of his memory he could hear the piercing evacuation alarm, the stampede of people, furs and the last few remaining humans alike, rushing towards the blast doors. The wailing of children... That was the sound that kept him up at night. If he had known what was about to happen, would he have forced his wife to come along, to condemn the kids who were there through no fault of their own? The answer, he was ashamed to say was, He didn't know.

Screwing up the packet and tossing it into the nearest bin, he turned on his heel, heading towards the door. And what about Bruce? If Kale could have a relapse, could his own son have one too? The thought made him wince. He had already lost one loved one over this ridiculous crusade, and he would be damned if he let the only other one in his life be sacrificed too. If the Organization found out, well, he guessed that that would mean he would have to fight them. Something he didn't relish the thought of. It had been years since he last took up arms, against beast or mortal.

He stopped in his tracks suddenly, head jerking up from his thoughts. Something wasn't right... Something was wrong; very, _very_ wrong... A taint in the air that he hadn't sensed for years, yet was as familiar to him now as it was then. Suddenly, he didn't think Kale's relapse mere weeks after meeting his son as a coincidence. Picking up the pace to hurry, but not so much to be suspicious, he made his way to the car park, slipping into the front seat and recalling directions for the last place on earth he ever wished to visit again...

The site of his wife's death.

----

Kale tossed and turned on the hospital bed, ignorant of the scale of discussion surrounding his accident as the neural monitor that his father had insisted on hooking up to him jumping wildly, even skidding off the scale in certain points. Moaning loudly, the human wrapped himself in the bundle of thin sheets that were expected to keep him warm, muttering "No" to himself, over and over and over...

Images flickered past his eyes, large looming monsters made of a black, oily, almost tar like substance, each with some sort of mask over where their face would be. Each mask had something different. Each were numbered, one to twenty-four, but that was pretty much all that linked them. Some were plain blue masks, some were bright red and had wide sweeping crests, horns, expressions... Each were different, yet they all had that same air of malevolent evil around them. Turning away from them, he saw shadowy figures rising up and slashing at the monsters behind him, destroying one, as the masked beasts responded, eliminating one of the somehow more attractive creations of smoke and illusion. Running blindly away from the scene of carnage, he caught sight of the only true light in the area, a large blue door that seemed to beckon him closer. One of the tar beasts however, was not so ready to let him escape, wrapping a dripping tendril around his leg that sent him sprawling to the floor, kicking at the vile appendage, a wide open maw heading straight for him as screamed...

Just as a large broadsword sliced through the tentacle, before carving the beast right up the middle. A gloved hand grabbed his shoulder, pushing him towards the brightly lit door and only now was Kale able to make out who it was...

"Mask!"

The Fox-Kale slashed at the nearest tar beast again, sending it's vile liquids flying in all directions before turning to face Kale with an exasperated look on his muzzle, his tail, no make that _tails_ twitching in either annoyance or fear. It was only know, outside of that weird sketch world, that he could make out he had three of them. Grabbing the boy's arm, he pulled him to his feet before dragging him along towards the doorway.

"Get your furless butt in that room now, or its game over for _both_ of us! Now Move!"

Stepping backwards slowly as Mask took out more and more of the tar beasts, yet inevitably being overcome by them, he turned around, running as fast as his human legs would carry him, feeling the beast's tendrils skirting over his body as he literally pulled himself into the door's light, the tendrils seeping over his mouth, his nose, his eyes...

----

He swam in darkness, all senses clouded by its choking veil. Fighting against the tendrils of exhaustion that numbed his senses, his hearing came first, a faint operatic, or maybe... Maybe hallowed singing, like some church choir surrounded him. No real lyrics, just one, or maybe hundreds of voices calling out the same haunting, prayer-like tone over and over. Feeling came back in his limbs and he nervously curled his fingers and toes to make sure that they were still working. He could feel the firmness of a wooden chair on his back and the faint pressure of a breeze on his fingertips and rushing through his hair. Finally, he forced his eyes open, snapping the bonds of exhaustion that kept them bound shut.

He was sitting in, like he had suspected, a wooden chair, but what he did not expect to find was _where_ he was sat. It looked like some deep cavern, with a strange, almost ethereal blue light streaming from the walls, the ceiling, even the small lake that lapped at the stone quay he found himself on. Blinking his eyes a few times, Kale found himself staring at two figures lounging on the rocks in front of him, smiling at him. One of them was a brown furred Jackal of some sorts, with fine, almost down like white feathers growing along the crown of his head, ruffling softly in the wind. To his right sat a female lizard, with wide, shimmering wings tucked against her back, a softer smile on her lips than on her canine counterpart. While his body seemed to be more obscene, more organic, much like those horror films his father had told him not to see but watched anyway, _hers_ seemed to be more ethereal, mist-like and almost insubstantial. Polar opposites, and yet they seemed to be two halves of the same whole...

Clapping his hands loudly, once, the jackal stood up, grinning madly at the young human. Spreading his arms wide, he gave a theatrical bow, never taking his eyes off the young child for a second...

"Welcome... To the Velvet Room... Or, as this place is also known as... The Sea of Souls..."

_**---- **_

_**The first (Short) chapter of many, I hope. Set after the Car Accident chapter in Furthia High, after kale meets his "True" self. Still, some things to clear up.**_

_**The two figures that Kale is meeting are based on two friends of mine who know nothing of the comic (Shame on them) and are, I suspect, far more friendly than they let on (Heh heh). The song Kale hears can be called either "Prayer for the Soul" or "Aria of the Soul". I suggest you listen to it! If you liked this so far, please tell me!**_


	2. Thou art I

_**Facing myself**_

Kale simply stared at the apparitions before him, the Jackal and Lizard gazing upon him like he was some vaguely interesting insect that crawled its way from under some giant fridge-freezer. The furred one of the trio started to stalk around the young human, nostrils flaring slightly as it picked up his scent with its probing, elongated muzzle.

"Well now. It seems we have a guest..."

The Lizard somehow glided over the polished stone floor to accompany her more organic twin, traces of feathers on her wings and tail. Reaching out, she stroked kale's face gently with a scaled hand, smiling to herself.

"... With an intriguing destiny... The air around him reeks of power."

For the briefest moments, Kale considered that perhaps out there with the tar beasts was the safer option, half rising out of his chair before the jackal pushed him back down, not roughly, but with a great deal more strength than Kale had. Gulping slightly, he decided to remain seated. Perhaps they would get bored with him and let him leave.

The jackal returned to his rocky perch, lounging over the stone on his side, head propped up in his hand, a faintly sinister grin on his face.

"I... Am Igor. Welcome." He gestured around the wide, luminous cavern, the lake seeming to glow brighter with his words, fragments of blue gemstones in the walls reflecting the ethereal light within the subterranean womb. Returning to her own, equally stony perch, the Lizard smiled more kindly than her counterpart.

"And I am Miranda. It's nice to meet you."

Kale stammered a quick "Nice to meet you in return, glancing around the "Velvet Room" as he called it, opening his mouth to speak...

"Worry not. You're fast asleep in your world. We have summoned you, within your dreams..." The jackal, Igor, clasped his hands together and rested his chin upon them, hooked muzzle hanging over his elongated fingers, his eyes peering deep into the young human.

"A dream?"

Miranda nodded once, a faint smile on her lips.

"Precisely. Though, of course, this does not make this a mere fantasy."

Still smiling that unnerving, knowing smile, the pair reached out to each other, palms flat, before tilting their hands forward to touch each other with the tips of their fingers. Below the point of contact, a stone slab rose up and a large blue and white tablecloth descended from the dark ceiling to drape over its flat surface. Pulling back, the two rested their hands on the "table" and a deck of cards materialised on the perfectly flat, unbroken surface, no more than twenty-four in total, and yet it seemed to draw Kale's attention to the large, palm-sized rectangular jewels.

Igor reached out, spreading his palm over the table. At once, the cards rose up, shuffled themselves, before laying down on the table one at a time, hovering gently above its surface.

"Do you know much about Fortune Telling?" He chuckled, brushing his snout carefully with his free paw. "Why don't we look into _your_ future?"

Gripping something insubstantial in his fingers, he mimed turning a card over. At once, one of the cards near Kale's chair, the bottom right, turned itself over, revealing a glorious image of a sword pointing down.

"Dear, dear... The reversed Fortune. This is not a happy deck... Great pain and suffering awaits you, both in your past and in what is to come..."

At this, Miranda spoke up, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning slightly at Igor.

"But of course, after great pain, comes greater rewards. By overcoming the trails from your past, your own future will be made brighter..."

Preening a wing absent-mindedly, she crossed her legs and reached out, fingers dancing in that same mime Igor used. On the opposite corner to the Ill-fated fortune card, its counterpart revealed its face, a sorrowful smile gracing her lips.

"The upright Moon... A great mystery awaits you, in the very near future..."

Chuckling to himself, Igor leaned over slightly, staring at the Lizard with amused eyes.

"But the Truth of the matter will, of course, remain hidden for some time. He may never learn its secret..."

Miranda smirked.

"I am confident."

Once again, the two reached out their hands, flipping the last, middle card before Kale. On the opposite surface...

Kale barely glimpsed the light that came out of the card before it burst into a blaze of blue flame, the card turning to meaningless ashes that blew away in the faint breeze... Igor and Miranda stared, blinking rarely, faces locked in serious contemplation. Then, weakly, Miranda raised her voice.

"A great power has been awoken in you, child. At the moment, it is weak. But with nurturing..." She leaned back, a smile once more brightening her face. Extending her hand, a book flew out of thin air, resting gently in her palm. Closing her eyes, she opened the book at a random page, reading the thin, spidery text contained within.

"I... Am the keeper of Power. Behold... Your power, made manifest..."

Flicking her palm towards the blue door behind Kale, the human twisted in the chair, watching as something was pulled through into the cavern. At once, he felt a great weight on his chest, like someone was tugging at his heart, causing him to cough, gripping his bed clothes over the dull ache in his breast. Finally, the figure was pulled completely though the opening, dropping to the floor and gasping. Picking itself up, shaking from the effort, Kale gasped...

As he stared directly into the eyes of his Vulpine self.

The fox-Kale grunted, forcing itself to its feet, using it's sword for support. Panting, it caught sight of the human before it, giving a faint smirk.

"Nice to see you made it in one piece."

His eyes flicked from Kale to the cavern, eyes turning steely as he swallowed hard. Taking a deep breath, he straightened up, glaring at the two watching the re-union with professional interest.

"The power of Persona. A true self that awakens when the mortal shell is in peril. I believe it has already sheltered you from one deadly encounter..."

Kale frowned slightly, glancing out at Mask from the corner of his eyes. Sheltered. Right. The fox had the decency to look mildly embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck gently. Miranda grinned, her eyes twinkling as she read the invisible messages between the two connected half-souls and lifting up her heavy, leather bound book, flipping back to the page Kale's new partner dwelt.

"Sabre... Master of Blades."

Fox-Kale, that is, Sabre, grunted at Miranda's use of his true name, but said nothing, staring at Kale for some time. Then, almost unnoticeably, he nodded to the human before bending down on one knee.

"Thou art I. And I am Thou. From the sea of Thy soul, I cometh. I am _Sabre, Master of Blades_. In my greatness, I come to serve you."

Kale stared deeply into Sabre's eyes, noticing that they held more than a passing resemblance to his own, minus the swirling green deep in his pupils. He began to open his mouth, to ask Sabre what this was all about, however Igor interrupted him with a throaty, growl-like chuckle.

"Now... Time marches on in your world. In time, you will return here, and of your own volition. One rule however... You must never speak of this to anyone... Besides other Guests, of course... And you must abide by the rules of your contract..." Miranda stepped forward, pulling something out of the book and handing it to the bemused, stammering Kale.

"You will understand, in time. Where will your new power take you in life? I look forward to walking the road of your destiny, together..."

Glancing down at the object in his hand, Kale's head snapped back up to glance at the table, the cards on it nowhere to be seen. Turning round to ask Igor or Miranda about it, he noticed that they too were gone. Closing his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself, he glanced at the card in his hand.

The back was a dark, but strangely luminous blue, with a mask split in half between black and white, like those Yin-Yang symbols he saw here and there, the eyes an opposite colour to their half of the mask. Flipping it over, he felt a faint chuckle in the back of his mind from Sabre, eyes widening as he came across the foxy version of himself on the face of the card, a large broadsword resting on his shoulder, hooded sweater gone, to be replaced by a bronze breastplate. For an instant, he felt like he had seen this image somewhere before... Maybe... in one of his father's History books? Shaking his head, he went to push the card into his pocket, only for it to dissolve into blue light, flowing into him. At once the same tendrils of exhaustion that brought him here snared him again, his eyes growing heavy, his limbs lead-like, and in the back of his mind, a familiar voice...

_I am thy Persona... Your True self. When thou hast needs of my services, call upon thy awakened power..._

Maxwell pulled up outside the old factory he and many others had worked, grimacing as the night seemed to turn colder, breath steaming slightly in the still air. As he pushed his glasses further up his muzzle, he climbed out the door, walking round to the boot of the car and, with a furtive glance down either side of the car park, opened it slowly, hesitantly, as though some dark, foreboding secret lay within. Glancing around him once more, despite the lateness of the hour, and the severe lack of any possible reason to venture this deep into the decrepit area of the city, he then bent over, pulling up a small section of the carpet like material at the bottom, finding a separate lock. Reaching to his neck, he pulled out one of the various glow sticks he kept around as a sort of call sign to others he'd like to have fun with. Fun was the last thing on his mind however, and he twisted off the top, shaking out a small key. Lifting it up to his face, he stared at its odd, violet like velvet coating for a long time before sighing, eyes closing as he unlocked the hidden compartment of the car. Lifting up the new panel, the light from one of the street lamps shone off something metallic, even as a dull blue light illuminated his face. Grimacing, he tossed his coat over the object casting the glow, pulling out the metal the light reflected off from. Gripping the pistol in his hand, he felt both uneasy and strangely calm as the butt fitted neatly into his palm, the weight reassuring, but also nerve-wracking. He hadn't lifted up his weapon for over fifteen years, and yet some things couldn't be forgotten. Checking the clip, he thumbed on the safety, striding towards the main doorway of the abandoned factory.

His foot brushed against the broken glass as he peered at the window, glancing at the hidden recesses where cameras and other, more deadly, thief deterrents lay, noting that they didn't respond as he approached. Using the same key, he unlocked the door, disabling the security systems anyway, just to be on the safe side. Slipping into the building, feeling his unease rise as the dark interior shrouded the many secrets that this ancient place held close to its chest; Said secrets best left forgotten. Eyes unblinking, he reached out to the wall, fingers fumbling for the light switch, vulpine eyes stinging slightly as they adjusted to the bright, harsh artificial light. The floor was coated in a thick layer of dust, untouched after Seventeen years of being shut inside this tomb.

Apart from the single fresh trail leading from the door to the old freight lift. Its call button bore signs of someone pushing down on it, and recently too, though from the amount of dust, recently could very well have been a year ago. Thumbing off the safety, Maxwell cautiously stepped forward, ears twitching as they picked up the squeak of rats, the creak of old chains, the faint hum of power, the-

Hold on. Power? After this long?

Throwing caution to the wind, Max ran over to the lift, thumping the call button with a clenched fist, scowling as he watched it pull up from the lower levels of the complex. A breeze ruffled his fur as cold, expressionless eyes followed the lift up to his level, only closing them when they opened to reveal the scent of stale, dead air. Swallowing hard, pushing back the memories that haunted this place, he strode into the lift, flipping open the panel as it descended into the depths.

The dim light of the lab glinted off the silver barrel poking out of the lift before the fox himself followed suit, twisting quickly to cover both any threat that may be before, or behind him. Seemingly satisfied that there was no immediate threat, he lifted the gun up so it pointed to the roof, eyes scanning the area quickly. All around him the area lay in shambles; tubing draped from the broken ceiling, electrical wiring poking out the walls and here and there were huge holes in the floor, a death-trap in the dim light. The trail that he followed in the upper levels continued here too, heading deeper into the laboratory. Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, he shuffled forward, careful not to place too much of his weight on the floor before he could test it. After this long, the thin flooring over the lower, more highly secure level was broken in places except for over the vault, the ten inch thick carbonated steel doing its job even this long after it had been abandoned. Max's heart rose up in his throat as the footprints made their way towards the access shaft for the Vault room below, one hand moving to his mobile phone, already calling up Cyrus's number from memory, finger hovering over the call button. Grunting as he climbed down with only one free arm, not daring to holster his gun for a second, he dropped the final few rungs onto the floor, bringing up his pistol to bear automatically. As his brain made sense of what his eyes were telling him, his veins seemed to flood with ice, his insides twisting and turning like they were struggling to erupt from him like in that old Sci-Fi film... The one with Sigourney Weaver...

There, just a few metres ahead of him, lay the vault.

Open.

Empty.

Dark.

Back peddling towards the ladder, he rammed his gun back, bringing the mobile to his lips, eyes flicking over every shadow, every crevice, anywhere anything could hide in. Ears flicked as he picked up sounds he dismissed earlier on as mere natural noises. _Was_ that a rat, or was it something else scuttling within the air ducts? Could that be chains from packaging, or could they be the remains of restraints? Did that moan _really_ come from outside, or was it somewhere much closer to hand?

"Come on, damn you... Pick up the damn phone..."  
A clatter of pipes from behind made the vulpine snap his gun back up, twirling round sharply as the lights above began to cut off one by one. Snarling to himself, he holstered his gun once more, running headlong for the door as _something_ rushed through the old construction area, knocking aside machinery, ancient pipe works and the occasional dressers dummy as a vast shadowy figure loomed up in the dark. Cursing his curiosity, Max ran headlong for the door, not daring to look behind him, knowing that the creature almost had him in his grasp as the light from his car headlights shone in through the grimy windows. Time seemed to slow: Dust motes twirling in the air like elegant ballerinas, Lights flickering softly, glaciers of light flowing down from the ceiling to the floor in sporadic intervals. Pipes, plaster, grilles and old cranes dropped to the ground all around him as a mighty roar rumbled up from the deep, a faint pressure wrapping around Max's leg just as he grabbed the door, pushing it open...

Time flowed back with a snap as the beast roared at the sudden high intensity light from Max's car, dropping the vulpine who, thanking whichever god granted him mercy for his mistake, scuttled forward, climbing up the car's rear bumper, reaching into his trunk as the beast recovered, smashing through the wall...

Max twisted round, holding out a small blue bauble, its glow growing more powerful as the creature approached. As the light struck the tar-like monster's flesh it reared back, bellowing in pain, liquid limbs scuttling over its face in a bid to protect itself from the cursed light.

Max panted, regaining his breath as he stepped forward, brandishing the light before him, driving the creature back. No one was really sure how the light worked... And he doubted anyone would ever find out. All he knew was that one of _them_ was let loose, and all the others missing. What was odd, was that this one never made to leave. It was almost, and he shuddered at the thought, as if it was w_aiting_ for someone to come check up on the facility. But... That was impossible...

Shadows had no minds. They _couldn't_ plan!

Max let out a low sigh as the beast gave Max one final glare before retreating back into the old factory, its form dissolving into the darkness which its kind was born from, the crimson soulless eyes glaring out at him before they too faded into the black. Max's chest heaved as his gun hand began to tremble and the pistol dropped from his fingers to thud into the gravel, his knees following suit. Slowly, he reached for his mobile again, flicking through the speed-dial, staring at the factory doors until the ringing was answered. Without bothering with the pleasantries, he barked out at Cyrus, not giving the mountain feline a chance to interrupt.

"Where the _hell_ have you been? No, never mind that, look; Call a meeting of the old council... No, you _can't_ ask why... Because I'd rather explain it once instead of a hundred times, okay? Just get a containment team down here... No, don't ask questions, just take my word for it, okay? Talk later."

Dropping the mobile, he finally sagged against his car's frame and as he glared through the darkened doorway, his paw reached out, grabbing the gun and cradling it in both hands against his chest. Right now, he _really_ didn't want to be left unarmed until the containment team arrived...

Kale's eyes snapped open as a growling rumble from outside boomed through the hospital wards, swiftly followed by a flash. Relaxing slightly, he closed his eyes once more, letting the second lightning strike's boom wash over him. He always liked thunder, strange as it seemed. Sinking into the sounds of rain tapping his window, the growling of the thunder and the occasional flash of light over his face calmed him, easing his heartbeat back to normal. Once his breathing was under control, he slowly opened his eyes, watching the fan above him slowly spin, circulating the air around him, and carrying with it the stale, pre-eaten scent of hospital food mingling with the sharp, bitter tang of disinfectant in the breeze...

_Thou art I..._

Kale shot up in bed, groaning suddenly with his hand placed gently on his side. Panting, he glanced across the room, hoping that maybe someone had left a TV, or a radio playing something...

Although, as soon as he pulled his hand back, any hopeful ideas that it was just a dream shattered. The dark blue card, complete with bisected mask lay in his hand peacefully, despite the accusing glare from the young male. Grunting to himself, he flipped the card over, coming face to face with Sabre once more... In fact, he would swear that the image of the tri-tailed grey fox was winking at him before his body was bathed in blue light as the card smashed itself to pieces before his eyes. Shards of blue glass-like material flowed over his open palm before coalescing once more, this time into a vague, crystalline shape. It resembled a harlequin mask, with small indents for the eye holes and no lower jaw to it at all. Unlike most modern masks however, it never had the particular curve to it to cope with the current population's muzzles. In fact, if it were larger, kale thought it could be a perfect fit. Closing his hand over the cryst, the human felt a faint pressure push down some of the hospital bed's mattress on either side of Kale, before a ghostly, translucent image of sabre swam into focus before fading.

_When thou hast needs of me, Call upon thy awakened power.._

Under the circumstances, he was later proud of himself for only letting out a light "Urk" when his own ghostly twin self loomed in front of him. Right now though, his hands were twitching, clenching over and over again against the delicate crystal, feeling it start to shatter in his grip, until his heartbeat had returned to a sensible level; i.e. that of a dull buzzing in his chest. Flopping back onto the bed, he watched as the gemstone flared once, still unbroken, and spun in mid-air before it too faded from view. Grimacing, he rubbing his face, groaning between his fingers.  
"Just... What have I gotten myself into?"

_I guess you'll just have to find out..._

Kale blinked to the empty room a few times before letting out a heartfelt moan.

"So... It's not bad enough I have to see you in my dreams..."

Silence answered him, although he did feel an overwhelming sense of achievement and self-satisfaction that he knew had never came from him. Flopping onto the bed again, ignoring the mild sting from his side, he closed his eyes. First thing tomorrow, he vowed, to go see his shrink again...

Sabre chuckled to himself before cocking his head to the side, sighing deeply. Kale, his "power", still only recently awoken, couldn't hear it, but he could. And he knew that the pair of them didn't have much time left. Turning his back on the sleeping image of his human host – He just couldn't admit to himself that Kale was another part of him- he strode out of the brighter, more lit up areas of their mind, walking into the darker side of their private area of the Sea of Souls... Come to think of it, wouldn't that make it a coast of Souls? A Bay? An Inlet? Shaking his head, Sabre glowered over his shoulder to the sleeping Kale. He's been stuck in here so long, he was even starting to pick up on some of his thoughts!

Taking a deep breath, Sabre stared into the darkness, feeling it form a shape somewhere, closer than he would like, but still far enough away to not be a considerable threat to his host. Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Ego staring at him with an accusing glare, arms crossed in front of his chest. Waving off the human-shaped figment, Sabre lightly rested his palm on the pommel of his sword.  
"It begins..."

Max and Cyrus stood impassive as the crowd of armoured Furres pulled out a large, glass-like container, even as the newer recruits flinched and paled. Closing his eyes, max let the dull, muffled roar of the beast within wash over him, through him, before carrying on into the ether. All things considered, he thought he handled the situation pretty well. The Shadow was re-captured, no casualties and, more importantly, no witnesses. The last thing they needed was a mass panic about inky, tar-like Monsters roaming the streets.

Cyrus' eyes followed the container until it was loaded into the transport vehicle, before letting out along, drawn out sigh. Glancing to his long term friend and colleague, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a long, thick tube and wordlessly passed it over.  
"I think you deserve it after keeping something like that in check...*  
Max's eyes flicked to the cigar in the older, more sophisticated Furre's paw before snorting, shaking his head.

"Has retirement muddied your brain, or are you just trying to reassure me?" The mountain lion smirked to himself before slipping the cigar back into his pocket, clasping his paws behind his back.  
"Not working I take it?" His gaze slipped over to the factory facade, tail tip twitching lightly. It must have been difficult for him... Coming here in the first place, then being forced to fight one of _those_, considering the history he had. A history they all shared.

Quickly, efficiently, the black clad, masked Furres made their way into the structure, guns trained on every corner, every pool of darkness that cold at any time rear up to reveal a horror straight from the dawn of sentient life. Set into their flared rifle barrels sat a large, bulbous torch, blue, ethereal light spilling out. While doing little to drive away the darkness at their feet, every soldier kept a far more watchful eye on their battery level than their ammo count. Bullets would only annoy the beasts. That torch was all that lay between victory and a fate possibly worse than death. Their black fatigues clung snugly to their bodies, padded out or reigned in over certain areas, until each of them was more or less a mirror image of the other. Large, flared out masks hid muzzles, snouts and flatter faces, while their goggles relayed information about the air content, the stability of the ground beneath their feet and the position of their comrades in comparison to themselves. As one swift, well oiled machine, they made their way to the lift shaft, the field leader – distinguished by a single white bar set into his suit over his heart – glanced down, grumbling to himself.  
"No telling what could be waiting down there..."  
Tapping the side of his gun a few time with a forefinger, he quickly jerked a paw at two of his fastest climbers, before gesturing towards the lift. Nodding once, the pair stepped forward, already stowing their weapons and retrieving their grapple kit. While they set up, the leader motioned for four of his men to stake the area, reminding them to keep their eyes on the shadows...

Max sighed wearily, watching the team's progress through the interior of the factory.  
"I told you, this place is deserted..." Cyrus waved his vulpine friend down before leaning over the shoulder of the skunk sitting up front, eyes glancing from one screen to the next. Despite the lateness of the night, he _still_ showed up in one of those damned suits of his, for once showing up the ill-prepared feline hovering behind him. When he got the call, he had to grab the first thing to hand...

"Anything?"  
The skunk left his screen-scanning for all of two seconds, flicking his eyes over the lion's attire with a smirk, reaching his face with a swift nod, returning to the array of screens with a speed that shattered the air of poise and grace he wrapped around himself, a steely glint to his eyes.

"Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Whatever the party was, we missed it..."  
Cyrus stood up, absently smoothing out his clothes before turning to the door, nodding to the guard on duty.  
"The area's secured. We'll move in, groups of three, five S.R.A.C.T. between us. We'll clear every lab, every bunke-"  
"Wh-wait, it's not secur-"  
"The base is secured Max, don't worry..."

Max opened his mouth to give several damn good reasons why the base isn't completely secured yet, but closed it with a dull snap, shaking his head with a shining, haunted look about his eyes. The S.C.R.A.T. teams were good, but they were... well, they were nothing more than children, comparatively speaking. Not one of them had ever seen a Shadow up close and personal, not outside training courses anyway. Once, Max listened into their posturing, their self-congratulating, ego-boosting, boasting and wished that once, just once, they could come face to face with a true Shadow, not those training Automatons the boys back in the lab whipped up. They made them out of _jelly_ for crying out loud! They couldn't know the true horror, the all consuming grip of fear that the real deal exuded like some sort of psychic stench. Nor could they know all the nasty little tricks that they used to trap the unwary...

His eyes tripped up over themselves to the three black bags laid out near the APC, his mind back-tracking. And now... Three young, stupidly brave kids would never learn...

Cyrus stood before the portal into the land of dreams that had swiftly devolved into nightmares, fingers playing with the hemline of his wife's dressing down. Even he could feel the familiar taint of fear in the air, just as he knew Max could. And he also knew that Max wouldn't have dared set foot in there if he caught even the slightest hint of them in the ether. In his brief, verbal report, he said it w_aited_ for him... But that was impossible...

He flinched slightly as Max rested his paw on the feline's shoulder, following his gaze into the deep dark. Inhaling almost simultaneously, the pair released as they glanced one last time at the Shadow that was being loaded into the transport, ready to be incarcerated elsewhere. It rocked violently against its plasti-glass prison, pounding the inside with its gloopy fists, mask slipping over its form as it peered at the transparent barrier that held it in place. And finally, when it realised there was no way out for it, it rose its head to the sky, and howled a roar of pure hatred, fury and utter despair...

Max and Cyrus flinched as the roar washed over them, each shivering subconsciously, as they hurried within the factory, it's stone walls and complex defence systems now looking much more attractive...

Kale's eyes flickered open, a dull roar on the edge of hearing washing over him like the lapping of waves on the shore, setting certain parts of him tingling. Glancing around him, he reached over for his wooden food tray that was laid down next to his bed, pulling it into bed with him in some instinctive need, returning to his slumber with barely a thought...

Bruce grunted in his sleep, twisting in his sheets as his tail slinked around his leg... Funny... He hadn't done that ever since he was a Pup, scared about the monster in the cupboard...

Well, there you have it for the second chapter. Hopefully, the next will come quicker, and will include the meeting of our current happy group, with the new bat character...


End file.
